


About Time

by storm_of_sharp_things



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Finally, Fluff, In Vino Veritas, M/M, liquid courage, or something like that, taking things further
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:00:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27636505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storm_of_sharp_things/pseuds/storm_of_sharp_things
Summary: Arthur makes a move...finally
Relationships: Arthur/Eames (Inception)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 45





	About Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mabrii](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mabrii/gifts).



> On Tumblr, justbebackbeforethekick posted a lovely photo of [JGL](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/justbebackbeforethekick/635155119446654976) (see below the story) and left a prompt in the tags: [#somebody write a fic about eames taking the second pic](https://www.tumblr.com/tagged/somebody+write+a+fic+about+eames+taking+the+second+pic)
> 
> And then the inexorable sledgehammer of sudden inspiration hit and here we are ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

“Are you drunk?” Eames asked, propping his chin on one hand and slipping his phone out of his pocket under the table.

Arthur grinned. “Maaaaybe...”

“It seems...unlike you.” Arthur danced a little in his seat to the music playing over the loudspeakers and Eames felt his eyebrows rise. “Are you all right?”

Arthur nodded enthusiastically, doing chugga chugga choo choo arms with the beat. “It’s tiiiiime to celebrate,” he sang over the lyrics.

“And what are we celebrating?” Eames was fascinated.

“M’retiring!” Arthur nodded twice, very firmly. “Made enough of a stash, don’ wanna look over m’shoulder anymore.”

Eames felt a pang. No more Arthur to meet for jobs? And maybe a little fooling around after if they weren’t running? If that was the case, then dreamshare had just lost almost all of its appeal. Eames certainly had enough money of his own, and only the prospect of seeing Arthur had kept him coming back. Arthur, who was always busy and disappeared entirely between clients. Arthur, who never responded to invitations outside of work. Arthur, who was the brightest spot in Eames’ life, and who was currently trying to air-drum to the solo section of the music. A smile curved Eames’ mouth in spite of the prospect of being Arthur-less. “Did you have to get drunk to celebrate retiring?”

Arthur leaned forward urgently. “No! Got drunk to...” He paused and narrowed his eyes at Eames. “You tryna trick me?” he demanded. He crossed his arms. “You _know_ why m’drunk!”

“I really don’t, darling.”

Arthur’s expression went soft at the endearment and he waved his left hand at Eames.

A chill spilled down Eames’ spine at the sight of a wedding ring on Arthur’s finger. “Did you get married?” he asked, fighting for a light tone.

“Pfffffffffft. Not yet. Hafta ask first.”

“Oh. Well, I wish you all the luck...”

“Eaaaames. Eeeeeaaaaaaaaaammmmmmmessssss.” Arthur paused to think, his brow furrowing, and then he brightened. “Eames! Hadda havva couple drinks. You’re ver’ scary, y’know.”

Eames blinked.

Arthur leaned forward again. “I really really like you, y’know.”

“I...you do?”

Arthur scowled mightily. “I don’t just sleep with anyone! I mean...” He considered that and then snorted. “I don’t just _have sex_ with just anyone! You’re...special...” He trailed off, looking distressed. “M'not special? You’re turning me down?”

Eames bit his lip, his heart beating faster. “You haven’t asked me anything yet, poppet.”

Arthur screwed his mouth to one side. “Mmmm. Not ‘poppet.’”

“Petal?”

He considered that for a moment, then nodded in approval. Then he frowned at Eames again, his face falling dramatically. “You still haven’t said yes...” 

“You still haven’t asked,” Eames prodded gently.

“Oh! Ummm...eameswillyoumarryme?” Arthur looked so hopeful, so excited, that Eames, despite his first impulse to tease, gave in to the moment.

“Of course I will, you gorgeous sheepwit.”

Arthur was delighted. “You will?” He made a ring out of his finger and thumb and peered at Eames through it. “M’looking at my fiance,” he sang. “We hafta tell everyone!”

Eames raised his phone and snapped a picture. “Oh, we will,” he said, starting a group text.


End file.
